I Will Find You
by Hillary1
Summary: A dribble that poured out at about 3am. Rimmer and Lister have a fight....let me know what you think...


  
  
By Hillary-   
Dedicated to Andy and the RDSS  
  
I Will Find You   
  
The force with which Rimmer left the Drive Room left both the clock and Lister's spirit on the floor in pieces. His footsteps faltered for a second as he paused outside the doorway -- Lister felt a small hope rise through his hurt and anger -- but that was flattened as the footsteps resumed and he stomped away. "Smeg!" Lister stood still in the middle of the now-empty room, breathing heavily, trying to calm down. Then he turned and threw the glass in his hand as hard as he could against the wall and watched it shatter. Just like my life, he thought wearily. He sank to the floor, suddenly too weary to hold himself up. Oh, Rimmer.   
  
*********   
Rimmer sat huddled up in his bunk, hands trembling. He fumbled with his tie, attempting to stop it from brutally choking him. He picked at the knot, seemingly unable to pull it loose. Oh, wait, there's a pin. Fingers shaking, he grabbed for the latch, but only managed to prick himself on the sharp point. Giving up and letting his hands fall limply into his lap, Rimmer closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He held it for a moment, head hung, then exhaled. It came out sounding like a sob.   
  
What a stupid, pointless fight that had been! It was entirely his fault, too. Lister had done nothing to provoke it. One minute they had been sharing a quiet evening playing cards, and the next minute he had been in a panic, lashing out wildly, saying the most rude and cutting thing he could think of. Most of that fight was a blur, details lost to a haze of emotional pain and confusion, but he knew he would never forget the moment that followed as long as he lived. Time froze as Lister looked up from his cards, clutching his scotch in one hand so hard his knuckles were white, shock on his face and a deep, bewildered pain in his eyes. Then Lister had asked him what was wrong and time had resumed its flow.   
Why did I do that? Rimmer wondered miserably. What's wrong with me? His mind sheered away from that thought abruptly. He knew what was wrong with him.   
For the second time that night, anger exploded from him, but this time it was focused on himself. He laid back and slammed his fist against the underside of Lister's bunk, hard. Then again. Then again and again and again -- he hit the bed in a steady, self-destructive rhythm, striking with such force that he cut his fist. Without realising it, he was chanting under his breath in time to his blows: "Stupid, stupid, stupid," a harsh, steady stream of self-directed deprecation.   
  
He lashed out with his fist yet again, but this time it landed on soft flesh, not unyielding steel. Startled, he opened his eyes and blinked back the sting of tears. Struggling to focus, he saw Lister kneeling on the floor next to him, holding his hand in a firm but gentle grip. "I heard noises, so I came out here to check on you," he said, concern and...something else...evident in his voice. Unable to meet Lister's eyes, Rimmer stared at their joined hands for a long moment. Then, slowly, achingly, he began to cry.   
He wept in huge, sobbing gasps, choking on his tears. He didn't cry easily or prettily: his eyes swelled up, his nose turned red, and his face was wet with mucus as well as tears. But Lister didn't care. He pulled Rimmer close and held him tight, rocking him slowly back and forth. Rimmer's shaking arms found their way around Lister's shoulders and he held on for dear life, fingers clutching the cracked leather of Lister's jacket with a white-knuckled grip, afraid to let go, afraid to lose this anchor and be lost again in darkness.   
  
After a while, the storm in his head passed, and Rimmer became aware of his surroundings again. He looked around in weary bemusement. He was sprawled half-in, half-out of his bunk, caught in Lister's embrace, having an emotional breakdown, in front of, -if there had been anyone- everyone who walked past. He chuckled weakly, surprised and amazed that he was able to. At the sound, Lister's eyes, which had remained dry throughout the whole night, dimmed a little with unshed tears. Softly, he touched Rimmer's face. "That's the first time I've heard you laugh in...in...well, in far too long."   
Rimmer looked down and said equally quietly, "I know."   
There was a pause.   
Rimmer sighed and said, "Lister, I'm really sorry. No, Lister, shut up and let me finish," he continued over Lister's protests. "I need to say it. I said some unforgivable things tonight, and I really hurt you. I'm sorry. I've...just...been pretty messed up lately. Ever since...since...you know. That letter." This last was so soft even Lister could barely hear it. "I've been trying to act like nothing happened, like I was fine, like...if I could just ignore it, then it would just go away. It wouldn't have happened. I mean, it was over, it was done with -- why dwell on it? So I put it out of my mind. Except I couldn't stop thinking about it. It was always there, you know? Lurking. Like my mind had this hidden trap, and the most ordinary, innocent thing would set it off. I felt --" He stopped, and took a breath. "I *feel* -- lost. Like I don't know where I'm at any more. But, wherever it is, it's some place I really don't want to be. And I'm all alone."   
  
Lister couldn't take it any more. "No," he said. "Not alone." Rimmer looked confused. Lister went on. "You're not alone. You have me. Wherever you are, I'm there with you. No matter where you go, no matter how lost you get, I'll find you." His shipmate still looked confused, and slightly dubious. Lister gave him a little shake, and cried, "Rimmer, don't you know I love you?"   
Rimmer hissed and turned his head away sharply, as if he'd been struck. After a moment, he said in a strained and shaky voice, "I guess I did. But I can't...I don't...I..." His voice broke. He took a breath. "You love me?" He sounded doubtful. "Why? How could you possibly...?" He trailed off.   
Lister closed his eyes briefly in pain. Gently, lovingly, he brushed Rimmer's usually neatly combed hair back off his forehead. His hands shook with rage, but to Rimmer, their touch on his face was soft. Rimmer closed his eyes. Lister spoke softly. "Arnold Rimmer, I love you because you are worthy of love. It's as simple as that." His hands continued to stroke his hair while he paused, considering his next words. "I know you don't believe me, so I'll leave it alone for now. But it's true anyway." Rimmer's mouth twisted into something that looked like a smile, but had nothing to do with happiness. Lister's heart bled at the sight.   
"Rimmer," he went on. "You can't go on like this. Will you promise me that you'll get Kryten to help you out?"   
Rimmer looked away, then back again. Silently, he nodded, then managed to croak out, "I promise."   
Lister breathed a sigh of relief. "Good," he said. "Good."   



End file.
